


You're Like a Siren in the Dark

by independentwriter137



Series: The Edge of Tonight [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hawk Moth is Gabriel Agreste, Identity Reveal, reunion au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 21:52:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11045061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/independentwriter137/pseuds/independentwriter137
Summary: In which he waits for her at the Eiffel Tower and she waits for him on the street they met. In the end, they meet each other halfway. Reunion/Reveal fic.





	You're Like a Siren in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> A/N. Soooooo this is kind of a follow-up to You're the Beat Playing in My Heart, but not really. When I was writing the other fic, I was having such a hard time deciding on where they would meet--the Eiffel Tower or the street they first ran into each other? That question made me wonder what would happen if they waited at both locations, never quite meeting. Hence, You're Like a Siren in the Dark, title also taken from the song The Edge of Tonight, and here it is for your reading pleasure.

_“Do you ever think about what we’ll do when this is all over?”_

_Ladybug glances at Chat over her shoulder, his posture suspiciously relaxed as he keeps his eyes trained to the night sky._

_“All the time,” she says. “I haven’t gotten a decent night’s rest in months.”_

_His lips quirk up in a smirk that lets her know what he’s about to say before he even says it. “I could hardly tell, Milady. Your lack of beauty sleep has done little to temper your radiance,” he says and sends her a playful wink as she rolls her eyes._

* * *

It’s probably dangerous to be staying out so late, every night for the past month, but Marinette knows she can still handle herself even without the suit. The air has been getting colder lately, probably the first signs of winter coming, and she burrows her nose deeper into the scarlet scarf she knitted. The streetlight she leans on flickers and for a moment she pretends she can see Chat’s green eyes in the darkness.

“Where are you?” she whispers, not really expecting an answer. Her mother used to tell her about a red string of fate tying one person to their soulmate. Marinette used to think that if she closed her eyes and concentrated hard enough, she would be able to follow that string and find Chat anywhere. He was her other half, the destruction to her creation, her match, her partner.

She’s tested that theory enough times to know it doesn’t work.

* * *

_His smile is fond for a few moments before his eyes darken in uncharacteristic seriousness. “I guess I meant do you ever what will happen to_ us _when this is all over?” he asks._

_There are a lot of things he could mean by the question, a lot of implications that she doesn’t know how to deal with. Her breathing stumbles for a moment, her thoughts scatter like the stars above them, and she licks her lips before trusting herself to speak. “I don’t know what things will be like by the time we defeat Hawkmoth, but I do know that you’ll always be my partner, Chat.”_

* * *

“Bro, what do you mean you’re busy again? You’re busy every night,” Nino complains over the phone. His tone is exasperated, bordering on annoyed, and Adrien can’t hold back the sigh that breaks loose from him lips.

“I’m sorry, it’s a work thing,” he says. His gaze sweeps across the busy crowd around him, hoping Nino can’t hear the heavily accented French of the American tourists a few feet away from him as they ask their tour guide questions about the Eifel Tower.

“I’ve been pretending to believe that for about a month now, but you and I both know that’s bull shit. You quit working for your father’s company the moment you found out he was, well, _you know,”_ Nino says and Adrien winces at his friend’s choice of words. “I’m just worried about you, man. Where are you? Where do you go every night? If you’re in trouble—”

“I’m not in trouble,” Adrien interrupts, still searching— _always_ searching—for a pair of pigtails and familiar blue eyes. “I’m waiting for someone.”

* * *

_“But what if we can’t find each other?” he presses and averts his eyes at her frightened look. “I’m not forcing us to reveal our identities. I know you’re not ready. I just meant, what if we lose each other, ‘bug? What if in the chaos we just can’t find each other?”_

_His voice is carefully nonchalant, but Ladybug has been with him long enough to recognize the protective hunch to his shoulders, the rigidness of his jaw. They don’t share details of their personal life, but she knows that whoever her kitty is under his mask, he’s lonely. He’s the kind of person who marvels over the smallest of things, bears the excitement of a kid told no too many times, the pleasant surprise of someone who’s used to be left alone. He is waiting now, she thinks. He’s expectant in a bad way. It makes her heart ache._

_She shakes her head and surprises him when she laughs. “I know exactly where I’d find you, silly kitty. Right here, under our favorite spot on the Eiffel Tower.”_

* * *

Her heart rate picks up when she hears footsteps behind her and she whirls around, but it’s just a man walking his dog at odd hours. She tells herself that she didn’t _really_ expect to see Chat’s smirk, that her ears weren’t straining to hear a cat pun or one of the countless nicknames he’s gifted her over the years.

The last time she saw Chat, he was bleeding and unconscious, Hawkmoth inches away from stealing his miraculous. After that, things start to get hazy. She remembers being furious and wrenching Hawkmoth away. There was a fight and she remembers that she was hurt. Badly. Maybe even fatally. But she managed to take Hawkmoth’s miraculous before timing out.

Chat was too far, a bright blond head in the middle of a growing pool of red like some sort of twisted flower. She was dying, she thinks, and all she wanted to do was reach him.

Tikki said something then, something about saving her by severing ties. It was only when she woke up in a hospital bed truly alone for the first time in years that she understood what that meant. There were countless others in the hospital, all injured by the attack one way or another, and she had tried to look for her Chat, but she didn’t know where to start. She knew he wasn’t dead. It was a fact, as sure as the way her pulse thundered in her ears.

She had limped around, following her instincts blindly until she had stumbled upon Adrien, who looked just as lost as her. He was devastated, even more so when he took in her appearance and realized that she must have gotten caught in the attack as well. His cheeks streaked with tears as he broke down. She didn’t have the heart to leave him after that, her own conscience heavy with guilt.

At the time, she couldn’t understand the lengths that Gabriel Agreste went through for his wife. She couldn’t fathom what could drive a person to go as far as he did.

Marinette thinks she understands now as she stares at the dog’s wagging tail as it disappears down the street. She feels the hollow in her chest, the Chat-shaped hole in her heart, and feels more pity for Hawkmoth than she ever has.

* * *

_Some of the tenseness in his posture loosens and he grins at her. “Really? For once we’re out of sync, Milady. I would’ve picked the street where we met, right under the street light.”_

* * *

Paris is quite the sight, even now that he’s admiring it from beneath the Eifel Tower instead of on top of it. He can see the beam where they used to sit after patrol. If he closes his eyes, it’s almost like he’s back there again, surrounded by Ladybug’s wind chime laughter and the chilly Parisian air. It hurts to know that he’ll never be up there again.

He catches a whiff of cheese in the air and he wrinkles his nose. “I’m not buying you that Camembert sandwich, Plagg, you still have a wheel at home,” he says, then freezes when he remembers that Plagg isn’t here anymore. The wheel of stinky cheese at home has been left untouched. The sense of loss hits him all over again.

A group of girls catch sight of him and he sees them whispering amongst themselves as they cast poorly hid glances at him. It makes his ears burn. He no longer knows if they’re whispering about Adrien, the minor celebrity, or Adrien, the son of the monster that terrorized Paris for years.

Sticking his hands in his pockets, he finally leaves his spot, but checks every face that he passes on his walks around aimlessly, in no rush to make his way back to the empty mansion he has yet to move out of. Every face feels wrong, none of them are his Lady, or at least he doesn’t think so.

He used to fantasize that he would run into his Lady one day. They would pass each other on the street and they’d catch each other’s eye. He would know the moment he saw her and she would smile at him. He’s not so naïve anymore. If he’s being realistic, they’ve probably crossed paths by now, never quite realizing it.

He knows it’s stupid to watch the rooftops while he walks, but he can’t help it. He’s watching for a red streak, for a spotted yoyo to break through the darkness of the night. He suspects that she lost her kwami just as he lost his. He absentmindedly rubs the spot where his ring used to be, swallowing his anger for his father.

He understands—truly, he does—but it doesn’t excuse anything. His father has taken so much, from Paris, from Ladybug, from _him._ Adrien doesn’t know if he’ll ever forgive him. He doesn’t even know if he’s capable of it at this point. He carries so much pain, as if every wound he’s ever received as Chat Noir throb all at once even if his skin is unmarked. The resentment he’d been suppressing wells up around him and he’s crumbling under the weight of it all. There’s no miraculous cure to heal everything this time. There’s not even Ladybug to hold his hand.

* * *

_They laugh quietly for a while and some of the heaviness in the air dissipates. She scoots a little closer to him. “When this is all over,” she says, and the words make her stomach flip in terror, so she tries again and steels herself. “When this is all over, then you will_ still _be my partner. We’ll always have each other, Chat. Always.” She laces her fingers through his and offers him an encouraging smile as she watches hope bloom in his eyes like a sunset._

* * *

When the clock hits 11:30, she’s not sure if she wants to cry or scream. The disappointment is a weight in her chest and it get heavier with each day that passes. She can still see herself crashing into Chat, tangling them in the string of her yoyo. She can see his easy grin, hear his cheesy lines.

He said he would wait for her at the street where they met, didn’t he? He loves her—he told her so that day they fought Hawkmoth. What if he hit his head? What if he doesn’t remember? She knows her kitty. He would find her. He would wait for her, _so why isn’t he?_

Marinette touches the streetlight like a headstone and summons the strength to head home.

A blond head appears in her peripheral vision and she thinks she must be going crazy. She’s projecting her emotions, creating something from nothing like a Lucky Charm. It’s not real—it _can’t_ be real—but she desperately hopes it is anyway. She chases after it, the figure at the end of the street. Her heels pound into the ground in time with the painful thuds of her heart. She catches sight of him from behind and her breath hitches.

Marinette would recognize those shoulders anywhere—the protective hunch that is both a shield from the world and the bearer of its weight. She can almost see the cat ears perched on his head, flattened in his wild hair to reflect his mood. She wants to cry and scream and _run._

In the end, she does none of those things. She is frozen and her voice fails her.

“ _Chaton_ ,” she says, voice barely above a whisper.

* * *

Her voice is like a siren in the dark. Everything inside of him stops at once and he’s so afraid to turn around because he doesn’t think he can handle it if it was just a figment of his imagination. His hands begin to shake, then he’s trembling all over. His feet feel like lead as he takes a step toward her voice.

 _Of course,_ is the first thing he thinks when he sees Marinette Dupain-Cheng standing a few feet away from him. _Of course of course of couse._ She’s smiling at him now in a way that’s not quite Ladybug and not quite Marinette and the two women become one in his mind. How could his Lady be anyone else? His Lady. His Princess. _Marinette._

She recovers first, takes a step towards him and stumbled because _holy shit_ she’s Marinette, and that’s all it takes for Adrien to start running too. They slam into each other and his hands immediately go to cradle her face as her eyes rapidly begin to fill with tears.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she cries. “Chat— _Adrien.”_ He can read her well enough to see the moment she starts making the connections, her expression morphing to horror and guilt. “Adrien, I’m so sorry—oh _God_ I had no idea that your father—I can’t—” she continues in broken speech that he can’t understand, not that he really needs to.

He swipes the tears away with his thumbs and does his best to get her to look at him. “Mari, _Milady,”_ he says and her gaze snaps to his. He’s struck by how much he missed her eyes. “It’s okay,” he tells her.

“No, it’s not,” she says.

Adrien knows better than to lie to her. “No,” he admits, “it’s not, but you’re here now. We can work through this together, right?”

His breath hitches as she leans her forehead against his. “Always, _Chaton,_ always.”

He doesn’t even realize that he’s crying until she starts wiping his tears away with the scarf wrapped around her neck. When he notices the color, he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. He drinks in the sight of her, finally whole instead of a half. He’s so afraid that if he looks away, she’ll disappear. “I waited for you at the Eifel Tower every day. Where were you?” he asks.

Her brows furrow in confusion. “You said you would wait for me at the spot where we met.”

“But you said—” he begins to say, and then it clicks. It’s not funny, it really isn’t, but it make him laugh anyway. Then Mari’s laughing with him and for a few stolen moments, everything is right in the world again.

“Out of sync again, Milady,” he says. “What a _cat_ astrophe.”

Her eyes light up with delight, but she pretends to groan in annoyance. “I hate you,” she says and rolls her eyes for good measure.

“No, you don’t,” he teases, and is surprised when her eyes soften.

“No,” she admits, “I don’t.”

He can’t help it—not with her looking at him like that, like he actually means something, like he’s someone worth loving.  She’s not going to fix him, he knows, and he doesn’t expect her to. He just needs someone to be there for him, to _see_ all of him, to know him and stay with him. The words slip out naturally.

“ _Je t’aime_ ,” he says, liking the taste of them. “ _Je t’aime_ , Marinette.” He says it again and again, mumbles it against her lips when she kisses him. He thinks he cries when he finally hears her say it back.

* * *

_He squeezes her fingers and smiles at her like she’s offered him the world instead of a promise of friendship. She wonders if he even thinks there’s a difference. “Thank you, Milady.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Did I mention I have one more idea for a reunion/reveal fic? Also a different scenario, a different way they would lose their miraculouses. Unless you guys are sick of them, in which case I will need to get off of my  
> recent obsession with this trope. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you guys for the awesome response to You're the Beat Playing in my Heart! Virtual cookies and camembert for all <3
> 
> Please leave a comment on this little fic too!
> 
> -Indy


End file.
